Mary's Addiction , livre ebook

Title Page
Mary’s Addiction
Damien Dsoul



Publisher Information
Mary’s Addiction - published in 2014
by House of Erotica
an imprint of Andrews UK Limited
www.houseoferoticabooks.com
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.
Copyright © Damien Dsoul 2014
The right of Damien Dsoul to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.





Dedication
This is based on a true story
written in mind and heart to a special couple:
John & Beth from Atlanta, GA.



Friday
Chapter One
It happened on a Friday night.
Donald Clauston and his wife Mary were returning home after having attended an end of year party hosted by his company, the Lindell Corporation. Donald was a senior executive, and every year on the last week of November, the corporation threw itself a party to celebrate their annual earnings. Most especially it was the perfect opportunity to gloat over how much pay check and bonus figures each senior executive was taking home for the upcoming year. Almost everyone was invited to attend, including the junior staff and interns as well: the up-and-comers still scaling their way to the top, still struggling to kiss whichever senior executive’s ass they could if only to be given a chance to sit with the big boys like Donald, who spent plenty of working hours behind closed doors exclaiming about their latest acquisitions: car toys, boat, or gossiping about some wide-hipped, hot-blooded young interns filling their bed-space when the wives aren’t around.
Mary turned her face from the window and looked her husband while he drove. Donald was in his mid-fifties. His hair was all grey and receding into a widow’s peak. He had an uncanny resemblance to that former game show host, Bob Barker. His handsome, youthful days were long gone. Looking at him now, it was hard to imagine he’d ever been young before. An indulgent lifestyle had transformed his body muscles into adequate flabbiness. Donald was aware of his disproportionate size and did his best to keep in shape with a friendly game of golf or an hour of squash down at the country club. Previously he spent time there almost every weekend. He seldom did that anymore, spending much time in his office instead. His unabashed argument was that it made plenty of sense making money than sweating beside a bunch of other fat cats chasing after a ball back and forth inside a square room.
Donald caught his wife’s eyes on him and turned to smile at her. There was so much demure in her eyes whenever he observed her looking at him even from a distance, he could barely decode all of whatever information she hid behind those hazel eyes of hers. It was as if his wife’s sense of mystery had expanded over the years of their marriage. Donald thought he would give half his fortune if only to know what percolated her thoughts half the time. Especially if it concerned anything about him.
“It was a lovely night,” he said to break the ice.
“Yeah, it was,” she replied, then stretched her arms and cracked a yawn. Her hand caressed the back of his head. “Way too lavish. Good thing I had to pull you away in time. It’s too bad we have to keep going to these end of year parties every damn year.”
“You used to like it,” he said.
“Used to,” she corrected him. “I’d like it even more if we think of going someplace else.”
“No need to get upset, Mary. It’s what happens when you’re one of five senior executives of a Fortune 500 company, honey. It’s one of those invites you simply can’t turn down.”
“I don’t buy that, Don. You’ve been a senior executive for ten year now.”
“Actually it’s twelve,” he said with such aplomb as if it were the equivalent of been a five-star general.
“Fine, twelve it is,” Mary sighed exasperatingly, withdrawing her hand from his head. “The point I’m saying is you’ve been there long enough to turn down these invites whenever you choose, and yet you don’t. You keep dragging me out for it, and I don’t understand that at all.”
“What’s not to understand, honey?” he turned to look at her to gauge her facial expression before returning his eyes to the road. “It’s a formality thing I need to honour. I put in countless hours behind my desk. The company’s expanded a lot since we bought that green plant in Michigan. Our stock options too have climbed - ”
“Enough, Don,” Mary cut him off and sighed once again, clearly upset with him. “You don’t have to give me the typical bullshit speech you and the rest of your old boys’ crew give yourselves down at the country club. It might sound nice for others to hear, but not for me.”
She folded her arms across her chest and returned her face to the window. Donald looked at her. He realised too late he shouldn’t have assumed his lawyer type of voice, except he couldn’t help it. Mary especially despised it and never failed to let him know whenever he started in on her about the numbers and dividends of his workload and all the goodies it provided them: a mansion with a low-income mortgage, all the toys and luxury they can afford all year-round, stock-option investments, two beautiful daughters and a son currently working their way through college as they speak, membership at the country club, but most importantly, the fact that they would never be broke; at least not in their lifetime, if things continue the way they do. Donald had been down that road a long time ago and wasn’t looking forward to returning to it.
Mary was huffing before realising she was doing it; her breath clouded the passenger window. She admired her ghostly reflection in the glass. She gently touched her coiffure red hair. Unlike her husband, she worked out consecutively to burn ounces of fat and maintained her slender figure. To her chagrin, that was the extent of her workout. Nothing she could do would get rid of the apparent wrinkles outlining her 48 year old body, especially the crows’ wings under her eyes. She pinched her abdomen under her dress, feeling their noticeable sag. No ageless cream or lotion could get rid of that. There was the option of going under the knife, as several of her friends had done, booking appointments with expensive surgeons in Los Angeles, or flying over to Europe to get such done. Mary Clauston admired their effort, knowing she could never attempt such. Besides growing up in a Catholic home, she was very much scared of knives. The thought of a knife cutting up a part of her body then replacing it with something artificial was morbid to even imagine. How her old friends live comfortably with such decision she could barely comprehend. Mary contended that her obstinacy wasn’t for lack of been desperate. There was a lot to appreciate about her body. She was an active swimmer. Her hips were wide and her breasts still jaunty as ever. So why the hell aren’t I content with everything?
Her fingers rubbed across the pearl necklace around her neck Donald had gotten for her birthday last year; it glittered from the car’s interior lights. She turned her face away from the window and sat forward; her eyes returned to her husband. They had been married 29 years and unlike majority of their old friends, plenty of them now divorced and married to others, they were still going on strong. That was the assumption pill Mary chose to swallow whenever reflecting on her marriage. The reality was hard to swallow. Donald was more in love with his work and everything that came with it than with her. Mary was inclined to reflect on their early years together during their college days. Hard to believe that her memories of such times were fast fading from her mind, and yet the little she remembered she tended to miss them a lot. It felt kind of great back then, living in a one-room apartment, scrounging for whatever little money they had. There was no one to hold on to back then except each other. Mary still remembered summer days when they’d stayed indoors eating pizza and French fries and having sex in-between. Once or twice they took their playfulness outdoors and made love in the park behind their campus during late hours. There were many such moments and yet thinking about them now she barely recalled important ones again. Those days now seemed like moments she’d dreamed of that never really happened... or that they actually did happen, but to someone else and not them. Hard to imagine that she and Donald had become in their near three decades of marriage the perfect picture of a rich, white suburbanite couple edging towards their golden age. The good times were plenty, but the private moments few. Hard to recall the last time she and Donald did anything significant together besides enjoying dinner and attending dull company parties like the one they just left. They had undertaken a boat cruise to Montenegro to celebrate their twenty-eight anniversary. It had been a lovely time just the two of them together, albeit a certain awkwardness whenever they fell asleep.
“You still mad at me?” Donald asked her.
Hearing him say that got her upset once again. Mary could barely stand her husband’s insouciant attitude when it involved her hurt feelings. Always knowing he was wrong, but seldom the one to own up to it. Mary on her own part was tired of fighting him over it; she knew the night would only get longer if she did.
“I’m not mad,” she said,